Worst Weekend
by RockAngel1
Summary: Richie gets himself in trouble over the weekend.
1. Chapter one

Richie was sitting on the edge of the barge looking out over the water, waiting for Duncan to get back and generally feeling very sorry for himself.  
  
He'd been bored. Bored and lonely and homesick. That had been his problem to begin with. Now his problem was how his friends were going to react to his methods for counteracting that boredom.  
  
When Duncan had first given him the plane ticket and he'd understood that he really was going to Paris with Tessa he couldn't believe his luck. Given practically no time to pack, let alone think about the realities of a move to France he'd just floated along on a cloud of excitement that had lasted him until Mac joined them and they'd settled into the barge on the Seine.  
  
Then reality set in. Its wasn't that he didn't like Paris or wasn't incredibly grateful to his friends for the chance they had given him. It was just that, well, he didn't belong. He didn't know anyone and couldn't have made himself understood even if he'd met anyone. He was far more dependent on his friends here than he had ever been at home and dependence on anyone wasn't something he was exactly comfortable with.  
  
Duncan and Tessa didn't seem to mind. They generally tried to include him in anything they were doing but they had friends of their own here and they were definitely not his type. Or, more to the point, he wasn't theirs. They were clearly a little perplexed by his inclusion in Duncan and Tessa's family and he quite often had the suspicion that they were talking about him when they suddenly moved into French and that made him even more uncomfortable.  
  
He didn't want to bother either of his friends with his problems. He wasn't a child after all and he didn't want them to think he wasn't happy to be here, particularly given everything they'd done for him. So he retreated into his usual cocky, tough guy persona and struck out on his own. And anyway, wasn't Tessa always saying that he'd learn the language much more quickly that way?  
  
Duncan and Tessa had been invited to a weekend house party at the chateau of a gallery owner friend of Tessa's. They had assumed that he'd go too but he had persuaded them that he would much rather stay in Paris. Reluctantly they had agreed, feeling that there was little trouble that he really could get into in just two days.  
  
Big mistake, thought Richie as he sat watching the sunset and mentally reviewing the weekend's events. Mac would be back in an hour or so and he was not going to be happy with the tale Richie had to tell.  
  
It has started out innocently enough. The drive hadn't really been a bad idea. Mac had left the keys after all and there really hadn't seemed any harm in just going for a drive. Ok, so he wasn't actually supposed to drive without Mac or Tessa along after that little incident with the traffic cop but, what the hell? That was just a technicality anyway and no one would ever know. Would they? Anyway, it was a stupid place to stand. Even if he was directing traffic  
  
Maybe he shouldn't have stopped at the café? No, even that would've been ok if he'd just had a coke and moved on but, well, it was legal for him to drink here, wasn't it? And, well, he was bored and fed up and a beer seemed like a good idea at the time. And another. And another.  
  
Even then, everything would have been ok if it hadn't been for that jerk in the corner. How was he supposed to know that he was the son of the patron behind Tessa's exhibition? Maybe if his brain had been clearer he would have realised that the brat seemed familiar but, in his beer fuddled state, he'd just thought the kid was a mouthy little bastard who deserved to be taught a lesson.  
  
Ok, now hitting him was definitely a mistake but, even so, the café owner hadn't needed to chase them out with a broom like a couple of scrapping puppies! And she definitely didn't need to phone the obnoxious little brat' s father. They'd only traded a couple of blows for goodness sake. It was all but over by the time the old man arrived!  
  
Now him Richie did recognise and the recognition was clearly mutual. And unwelcome. Richie didn't understand very much of the tirade that was directed at him but he got the general gist of it and it clearly wasn't complementary. Tessa's name was also mentioned several times so it was clear that she would be the first to hear of his activities. Suddenly this didn't seem like such a great idea after all.  
  
Finishing the tirade in a crescendo, gesticulating at both boys, the old man swiftly clipped his son across the back of his head and swept him off, leaving Richie feeling very much the worse for wear and digging through his pockets for the car keys. They weren't there.  
  
Timidly he walked back towards the café to look for them inside. On seeing him the owner initially brandished her broom again but he managed to explain his problem with in a mixture of pidgin French and gestures and she agreed to let him back in to look for his keys. Unfortunately they didn't seem to be there either.  
  
This shouldn't have been a problem. After all, breaking into cars was what he'd done for a living at one stage but why oh why did those policemen just happen to be passing just then? And why oh why did one of them just happen to be his friend the traffic cop? Though, strangely enough, that at least turned out to be a blessing. Given that the guy clearly remembered him he couldn't actually arrest him for breaking into Duncan's car, however tempted he might be. They couldn't even charge him under the drunk driving laws. He didn't have the keys on him so how could he be intending to drive? However that did rather leave him without transport as he could hardly hotwire it and drive it away under their very noses.  
  
It had been a long, cold walk back to the barge that night and an even longer walk around Paris the next day trying to find where he'd left the car. The anticipation of Duncan's probable reaction when he heard that his was car as lost somewhere in Paris together with the reason why was not exactly comforting either.  
  
Richie was used to talking his way out of trouble. It was something he was very good at but even he had some doubts that he could talk his way out of this one. Which is why he was sitting on the barge looking out over the water, waiting for his friends to get back, generally feeling very sorry for himself. 


	2. Chapter two

Hearing a car pull up, Richie slowly climbed to his feet and walked over to the gangway. He watched Duncan pay the taxi driver, grab his bags and walk towards the barge. One look at his face and it was clear that his playmate' s father had kept his promise to track Tessa down.  
  
"Hi Mac, Where's Tessa?" Richie tried for a cheery smile and breezy manner. It was worth a try.  
  
"At the Gallery, trying to calm down the owner. We need to talk. Now Inside". Said Duncan as he stalked past him.  
  
Maybe not.  
  
"Look Mac, I really can explain." Richie said, following the Highlander down the steps.  
  
"I can't wait to hear it." Was Duncan's inevitable response as he dumped the bags and turned to face the agitated boy behind him. "You can start by telling me where my car is." He was obviously trying to stay calm.  
  
"Could we maybe start with an easier question?"  
  
"RICHIE!" But not succeeding.  
  
With both hands out in front of him, as much for protection as anything else, Richie launched into speech before the Highlander could reach for his sword. Something he was clearly considering.  
  
"Its not as bad as it seems Mac. It's perfectly safe. I. .Er.just...I.Er...Just.. don't know exactly where it is."  
  
Duncan took a deep breath. He hadn't expected this to be easy but it was obviously going to be even harder than he'd thought.  
  
"Rich. Just tell me what happened. Ok?"  
  
And so Richie explained. And explained again. And again. He tried to get Duncan to see that it really wasn't as insane as it appeared at first sight and that, when taken individually, everything he'd done really had made perfect sense. It was just if you insisted on looking at the evening as a whole that it started to seem reasonable to question his sanity.  
  
Duncan, however, became stuck on one question. And it was the question Richie was least able to answer.  
  
"But why? That's the bit I don't get. Why?"  
  
"Well I guess I was bored and a bit lonely and, well it seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
"Why didn't you come with us? You were invited after all."  
  
"Oh come on Mac. I don't fit in with those sort of people. They'd just have spent the weekend counting the silver or something. You know that."  
  
"You fit it with us don't you? And you'd get along perfectly well with them if you'd only give them a chance. Rich, if you were having these sorts of problems, why didn't you talk to us?"  
  
Duncan really did seem to be trying to get to the bottom of the whole mess and help. The problem was, that that just rubbed Richie's vulnerability raw and he lost his head and blew up.  
  
"And you'd have done what exactly? Asked everyone to be extra nice to your poor little street kid? Well no thanks Mac, I don't need that sort of help. And anyway, you and Tessa have your own life. You don't want to be bothered like that with me."  
  
"So let's get this straight. You didn't want to bother us. You'd prefer to drive around Paris getting drunk, picking fights in bars and almost getting picked up by the police. You didn't think we cared enough to even try and talk to us? After everything we've been through you still didn't think we'd care." If Duncan had been angry before he was now absolutely furious. He advanced on the boy and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.  
  
Richie tried to back away but he was already up against the wall and there was just no-where to go. He found himself being dragged, struggling and yelling across the floor.  
  
"Heh! Lemme go. What are you doing?"  
  
On reaching the couch Duncan turned towards him. Holding the boy by both shoulders and in a voice all the more frightening for being calm and quiet said.  
  
"I'm going to prove to you once and for all just how much we care about you and how important you are to us."  
  
With that, he sat down pulling the stunned Richie face down across his lap.  
  
For once Richie's famed motor mouth failed him. He simply couldn't believe what was happening. His wail of "Maaaaaaac?" was cut off with a squawk as his friend's hand connected sharply with the seat of his jeans.  
  
However, realisation quickly set in as Duncan proceeded to soundly spank him and he tried frantically to struggle free, kicking and screaming and swearing. But the Highlander was just too big and his determination to see this lesson home once and for all was just too strong. As Duncan concentrated on covering every inch of his backside, the threats and swearing slowly gave way to inarticulate grunts and cries as Richie became more concerned with not sobbing like a baby or being sick.  
  
Hearing the change and feeling that the kid had probably had as much as he could take Duncan finished and allowed Richie to slip off onto his own knees. Then, grabbing his shoulders and looking hard into the tear stained face, Duncan slowly repeated the liturgy that Richie had been vaguely aware of running in the background throughout the spanking.  
  
"We do care about you. We care very deeply. We care that you don't feel able talk to us. We care if you are unhappy. We care if that unhappiness makes you take off and do stupid, dangerous things and we care enough to take action before that stupidity costs you your life or your freedom."  
  
Each statement was punctuated with a sharp shake so that, by the end of it, Riche was clinging to Duncan's arms just to stay upright.  
  
"We care about you Richie Ryan and if I have to turn you over my knee every day for a month to convince you of it then that is exactly what I will do."  
  
"That won't be necessary. I got the message." Answered Richie frantically, rubbing his bottom and waiting for the world to stop spinning.  
  
"But you have to care too," Duncan finished quietly.  
  
Richie's eyes widened and he suddenly looked terrified and very very young.  
  
Reacting on impulse Duncan pulled him into a tight hug. Richie clung onto him. Clung to the security suddenly offered, sobbing out the last of the anxieties that had been building up in him over the last few weeks. Feeling the release, Duncan held on to him, slowly rocking him backwards and forwards murmuring quiet, comforting nonsense.  
  
When he'd finally calmed down Duncan helped him to his feet and grinned down at him.  
  
"Go get cleaned up and I'll get you a drink. You look like you could do with one, But you're not finished for the day yet you know"  
  
"Huh?" Richie started to get nervous again. What else did the man have in store for him today?  
  
"You still have to find the car remember." 


	3. Chapter three

Richie was back in his favourite spot on the barge looking out over the water. This time, however his mood was closer to anger than depression. Anger at Mac and Tessa and the gallery owner and his blasted son and the world generally. And himself. In particular, he was furious with himself. Partly because of the weekend but mostly over what had happened afterwards. He couldn't believe that he had just wailed like a baby over a few slaps to his ass. And remembering the way he had clung to Mac, sobbing into his shoulder  
  
'Just kill me now', he thought, as a new wave of embarrassment washed over him.  
  
"Come on Rich, we've things to do"  
  
Richie leapt a foot in the air nearly pitching forward into the river and was saved only by the Highlander grabbing the back of his jacket.  
  
"Can't you give a guy some warning?" He wailed "You nearly scared me to death."  
  
"Or drowned you." Duncan grinned. "Come on."  
  
"Where to?" Richie was so caught up with feeling sorry for himself, he'd forgotten the cause of the problem.  
  
"The car, Remember? And Tessa. We have to go pick up the car and meet Tessa." Duncan replied, speaking slowly as if to an idiot, his grin widening by the moment. " And we have another appointment too."  
  
Richie had forgotten the other person that was likely to have something to say about his weekend's activities  
  
"Oh shit. Tessa!" Richie dropped his head into his hands again. Then, the thought of how much Tessa was likely to have to say and how loudly she was likely to say it struck him and his instincts for self preservation cut in; the motor mouth going full speed.  
  
"No way Mac. I mean...Just ..No way.. She's gonna kill me.. She'll take what you left and just... like annihilate. Look.. Be serious. ...I mean.. Just think.. Do you really want all that trouble in the middle of Paris? I mean..Think of the noise. Think of the blood! I'll just stay here nice and quiet and you go get the lady. Then you can, like, just throw the body in the river when she's finished. No fuss. No muss."  
  
As he spoke he was moving slowly towards the doorway, hoping to reach the comparative safety of the inside before Duncan could process his words. A vain hope. Duncan read his intention and stepped into his path, arms crossed, grinning down at him.  
  
"And what other appointment?" Duncan's comment had finally penetrated.  
  
"We're going to pick up the car and meet Tessa and then we are joining M Caradec and his son for dinner." Duncan mentally counted, waiting for realisation to hit. 1..2...3...  
  
"Caradec?....Caradec? The gallery guy? No way Mac. Like no way. Have you gone raving mad? There is no way that man wants me anywhere near him or his son like, ever!" In his panic, Richie started backing away again, forgetting he was on a boat, and had to be rescued once again before he went over the side.  
  
This time, however, Duncan kept hold of the jacket and walked him off the barge before letting go.  
  
"Come on ToughGuy. I've just spoken to Tessa. They're expecting us. It was his invitation."  
  
"What?" Richie stopped dead.  
  
"It seems he feels that you are not entirely to blame for the incident in the café." Duncan told him, giving him a shove to get him moving again.  
  
"Why?" Richie asked, still not going anywhere  
  
"Because he was so stuck by your blinding repartee that he can't wait to further his acquaintance with you?"  
  
"Come on Mac. This is serious. He's crazy. Mac please, I'm begging here. Don't make me do this."  
  
"Richie this is not open to negotiation. At the very least you owe the man an apology for dragging him out to rescue his son like that and you certainly owe it to Tessa to at least try and make amends!" Duncan had finally had enough. " Now are you coming or shall we go back to the barge and discuss this some more?" He threatened.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming" Duncan turned and headed off down the bank. Richie trailed behind muttering "Yes oh lord and master. Anything you say oh lord and master."  
  
In truth, he could see Duncan's point but the reference to the trouble this business had caused Tessa was unfortunate. Richie was still deeply embarrassed by everything that had happened and so bitterly resented what he felt was Duncan rubbing it in.  
  
As they headed into town Duncan initially tried to cheer him up; teasing him about the whereabouts of the car but, getting nothing but grunts and snarls in response, soon gave up. He left Richie to get over his sulk on his own, comforting himself with the thought that the kid could rarely hold onto a bad mood for long. He was basically too cheerful a person for that.  
  
But not, unfortunately today. The fact that Duncan led them straight back to the café square somehow just added to Richie's bad temper. Mr Perfect does it again, he thought. Obviously Tessa had passed on the information from M Caradec and Richie knew that perfectly well but he was too busy building up his resentment to really think it through.  
  
As Duncan checked over his car a large familiar car pulled up and M Caradec and Tessa emerged. Pausing briefly to embrace Tessa, Duncan headed over to talk to M Caradec leaving Richie to Tessa.  
  
"Are you all right? Let me look at you. What did you think you were doing?" she asked whilst turning his chin this way and that, checking for damage.  
  
"Lemme go. I'm fine." The mothering did nothing to improve Richie's mood and he pulled away angrily. "You don't have to go on about it. Mac's said and done everything already. Can't we just let it drop?"  
  
Tessa stepped back in surprise. She'd expected wisecracking, outrageous excuses and an attempt to sweet talk himself back into her good graces, not a temper tantrum. Her own temper rose in response and she regarded him icily.  
  
"Well I certainly hope so and I hope you can make your apologies to Jacques with more grace than you seem to want to show me."  
  
With that she turned and followed the men into the café leaving Richie to trail after her feeling smaller than ever.  
  
Things settled down better once he was inside. He managed a credible apology to M Caradec and the café owner, who turned out to be his sister - that explained a lot Richie thought- and even Tessa thawed out once she'd settled down in the circle of Duncan's arms. A surprisingly pleasant evening seemed on the cards. Both Caradecs turned out to be very nice people; very willing to amuse and be amused by the brash teenager. Madame in particular took him to her heart when a chance reference of Duncan's to Richie's perpetual hunger and difficulties with French food sent her clucking into the kitchen with promises that his dinner tonight would be all he could desire.  
  
Life was good. His friends had forgiven him, the gallery owner not only didn 't look down on him, he was even listening to Richie's suggestions on security at the gallery - given from his unique point of view of course and he was looking forward to Marie's excellent dinner.  
  
Richie was well on the way to forgetting all about the weekend's events when Philippe Caradec arrived. He had definitely not forgotten. Nor was he in any doubt about who was to blame for the whole incident. As their eyes met, all Richie's resentment came flooding back and the two boys glowered at each other across the table. The atmosphere changed completely. Battle lines were drawn; they were just waiting to see who would fire the first shot.  
  
It came over dinner and then everything went downhill from there. The good- natured bantering suddenly became barbered and the discussions on security at the gallery acquired a condescending edge that had been absent before. Richie retaliated with several swift knocks of his own against the privileged rich and all chance of a pleasant, civilised meal went out the window. Whilst Richie didn't actually instigate any attacks, he instantly retaliated to anything that could even remotely be considered a challenge either to him personally, his friends or his nationality; apparently oblivious to any discrete signals from either Duncan or Tessa to behave himself. Dinner became hideous.  
  
The exchanges continuing throughout the evening until Duncan was ready to knock their heads together. So apparently was Marie. As they finished, she announced that the café was short staffed and her assistant had to leave early so would the 'children' kindly assist by finishing the washing up thus enabling her to enjoy some time with her guests.  
  
Philippe instantly started to protest but, with the entire table against him, there was little he could be but trail off with Richie, who had at least retained enough good manners not to argue - or not after Tessa kicked him under the table anyway - leaving the adults to discuss the horror of teenagers the world over.  
  
As soon as the door shut Philippe turned on Richie  
  
"See what you've done. Wasn't last night enough? You had to come back for another go today?"  
  
"Now hang on a minute." Richie had also had enough "It was your old man that insisted we come tonight and it was your nasty little gibes that got us stuck in here. Don't go blaming me. Now let's just get on with it so we can get out of here."  
  
Richie headed for the sink and the mountain of dirty plates stacked there but then stopped when the French boy didn't follow him.  
  
"Well come on then."  
  
"You're obviously the more experienced at such work. Why don't you do it?"  
  
Richie was about to hurl himself on the objectionable boy when the door opened and Marie came in with the final plates. Under her steely gaze they quickly sorted themselves out and started work. However, as she left, the argument instantly sprung up again and carried on as they worked but it was necessarily low key as she made a point of wandering in and out throughout. Then, finally, she directed Richie to put away the last of the crockery and Philippe to mop the floor before thanking them both for their help and, leaving them to finish off, heading back into the café. 


	4. Chapter four

Just as Duncan sat down there was an all-mighty crash from the kitchen followed by shouts and another bang. En mass they headed in to find the boys grappling on the floor, soaking wet from the overturned bucket, with broken china all around.  
  
Duncan waded in, grabbing both boys by the scruff of their necks, and hauling them to their feet.  
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked. "What happened?" Then, when neither boy appeared willing to answer, he shook them like a terrier and then asked again "Well?"  
  
"He tripped." said Philippe.  
  
"He tripped me" responded Richie instantly. "He rammed that mop between my feet as I was carrying that stack of plates and deliberately tripped me up."  
  
"It was an accident" Said Philippe sullenly as he saw not just Duncan but his father and aunt glaring at him.  
  
But Duncan was still more concerned with Richie. "So I suppose you hit him again?"  
  
Richie declined to answer, scuffing his toes on the floor and looking anywhere but at the irate Highlander.  
  
"We'll talk about this more when we get home," said Duncan finally and then turned towards their hosts to make his apologies.  
  
"You can't possibly take him home like that. He's soaking wet. He'll catch his death of cold". Marie interjected. "They both will. Go on, upstairs the pair of you. I'll find you something to wear while I get your clothes dry." And she was gone, driving both boys ahead of her.  
  
Turning to Duncan and Tessa, M Caradec said formally " I can't tell you how sorry I am for my son's behaviour. We are now going to have a talk that will ensure he never, ever behaves like this again" and then, without waiting for a response, he followed his son up the stairs leaving Duncan and Tessa standing in the middle of the kitchen wondering what to do next.  
  
As they stood staring at each other Marie returned with a pile of jeans and tee-shirts which she promptly dumped into the tumble dryer. Then, handing Duncan an oval, tortoiseshell backed hairbrush, she smiled sweetly saying. "You'll find your young friend in the front room if you want to go and talk to him while his clothes are drying."  
  
Duncan looked at the French women for a moment, then at the brush in his hand, then back at Marie again before returning her smile and saying "Thank you I will." Then he too headed for the door.  
  
Walking up the stairs, Duncan could hear a heated discussion coming from a back room on the first landing. As he turned the corner it culminated in a cry of "No Papa. Please!" followed by a sharp slapping noise; perhaps the sound of a slipper striking bare skin and then a cry of pain.  
  
Stopping briefly to listen, Duncan grinned as the sounds quickly merged together; the slipper providing the background rhythm to a chorus of yells and cries and the occasional pleading "Papa!" Then, gripping the hairbrush firmly, he carried on down the hall to make some music of his own.  
  
Richie was wearing only his boxers and an old robe belonging to goodness knows who and was rapidly pacing the floor, trying desperately to work out what on earth had got into him and where it was all going to end. The whole evening felt like a terrible nightmare that he just wasn't able to wake up from.  
  
Chasing them both upstairs, Marie had driven him into the front room and then swiftly stripped him of his soaked clothes, regardless of his frantic protestations of age and modesty. Handing him the robe from the back of the door she had promised to send Duncan up to keep him company while his clothes dried.  
  
This had sounded vaguely like a threat and had done nothing to reassure him. Remembering the look on the Highlander's face when he'd last seem him, Richie had not been at all keen to spend any time alone with him just now. And that was before the discussion down the hall got going.  
  
Once he realised where that was going there was no way that he wanted Mac anywhere near him. Goodness knows what ideas he'd get from it. Richie was feeling way too vulnerable just now to deal with an irate Highlander wearing, as he was, little more than a pair of shorts.  
  
Hearing the door open he turned, hoping to see Marie with his clothes. Instead he came face to face with the one person he really didn't want to see.  
  
"Er.. Hi Mac"  
  
"Hello Richie." The man was entirely too calm.  
  
"Marie said my clothes would be a while. I don't want to keep you guys hanging around. Why don't you take off now and I'll meet you back at the barge later?"  
  
"Nice try Richie but Tessa and I don't mind waiting for you. We're in no hurry. Anyway, it gives us plenty of time to talk about the way this evening went don't you think?"  
  
As he spoke, Duncan was slowly advancing on a very nervous Richie. The boy retreated, babbling franticly.  
  
"Let's just forget about tonight. It was a mistake from the word go. It was never going to work. The whole idea was doomed to failure from the start, should never even have been considered. But, don't worry, I won't hold it against you. You were only trying to help. We'll just pretend it never happened."  
  
"I'm sorry Rich but we can't do that." Richie's retreat had now been cut off by the dressing table and the big man was looming over him. "Though I am pleased you won't hold my attempts to help you against me."  
  
Duncan reached out to grab his arm and Richie saw what was in his hand for the first time. Too late to do anything about it, he was swiftly pulled across Duncan's lap as the man sat down on the dressing table stool.  
  
"Mac No! What are you playing at?"  
  
"I was about to ask you the same question." Duncan replied, holding onto the struggling boy and catching his hand to hold it in the small of his back when it tried to cover his bottom.  
  
"You know damn well there is no way I am going to ignore something like this. What on earth got into you? I don't care what provocation you received. Whatever happened, you know better than that."  
  
"Mac...I'm sorry"  
  
"Yes, but that doesn't change anything. Does it? I told you earlier on that we wouldn't accept this sort of behaviour. Maybe I didn't drive the lesson home hard enough." And, so saying, he swiftly pulled down the boy's shorts and landed the first of many hard smacks on the bared bottom with the back of the hairbrush.  
  
Richie's wail of outrage at losing his shorts swiftly changed to one of pain at the force of the blows. He'd thought the Highlander meant business before but that was noting compared to what was now happening. Duncan really meant it. Richie would let go like that again at his own peril!  
  
Initially Richie tried to stifle his cries and keep quiet, remembering how clearly he'd heard what was happening down the hall, but then the pain and indignity proved too much and he was soon yelling and pleading as loudly as the French boy.  
  
Richie felt like his butt was on fire, he was sobbing uncontrollably and kicking his legs so much that his boxers went flying across the room. Duncan did not stop spanking until he felt Richie had truly learned his lesson. Once Duncan finally stopped spanking Richie, he pulled him up into his arms and hugged him.  
  
"I'm really sorry Mac."  
  
"I know you are tough guy, I really want you to think about everything thing that's happened recently and I know just the place for you to do that until your clothes come back" Duncan said as he got up and lead Richie to a corner in the room.  
  
"Can I at least have my boxers back while I stand here."  
  
"You'll get them back along with your clothes."  
  
Downstairs in the kitchen, Tessa and Marie had just finished clearing up the broken china when the noise started. Looking concerned, Tessa headed for the door only to be stopped by Marie.  
  
"No. They mustn't. It isn't right."  
  
"You leave them be. They're doing exactly as they should."  
  
"But no. Duncan..Richie...He's 18. That's much too old to..."  
  
"To old to spank? No dear, certainly not. When almost grown young men suddenly start behaving like naughty little boys it's a sure sign that they are feeling insecure and need reassurance that there is still someone there for them."  
  
"So that's what there are doing?" Tessa asked incredulously. "Providing reassurance?"  
  
"Well....That and expressing their opinion of the hideous evening the pair of them inflicted on us with their antics."  
  
Later, as they sat drinking coffee and chatting, the door opened and Duncan and Jacques came in followed by two incredibly sheepish looking boys, both now fully dressed in dry clothes.  
  
Tessa jumped up and ran to Richie, hugging him and then holding him out at arms length; checking for damage.  
  
"Richie. Are you all right?"  
  
With a swift look at Duncan, Richie, responded, returning her hug, "Yeah. I 'm fine Tess. Look. I'm really sorry about tonight. I just don't know what happened....I'm sorry I.. Er....." He looked anxiously from one to the other, unsure how to continue.  
  
"Its OK ToughGuy. It's over" answered Duncan, just as Tessa said, "It's all right. Don't worry."  
  
Richie then turned towards the Caradecs offering them an apology too. This was duly accepted with Marie patting his cheek and telling him not to worry and Jacques putting a hand on his shoulder and reassuring him that, everything was now paid for and would be put behind them.  
  
Then, surprisingly, Philippe stepped forward offering his hand.  
  
"I'm sorry too. This was all my fault. I'd like to call a truce if you're willing." Adding, whilst rubbing his backside and casting a rueful look at his father "I'm not sure I can take much more if we don't."  
  
Richie laughed. "Me neither." He said, with a similar look at Duncan. "Truce." They shook hands.  
  
"Anyway, there's something you mentioned earlier I was wondering if you could show me." Philippe asked Richie hopefully.  
  
"Sure. What?"  
  
"I'm not sure how you say it. To start cars without using the key."  
  
"Hotwiring? Of course my friend. Come right this way." Richie threw an arm around his new friend, leading him out of the shop leaving Jacques looking dumbstruck, Duncan horrified and the two women laughing themselves silly  
  
"I have a feeling we're going to bitterly regret getting that pair together" said Marie when she could finally speak again.  
  
End 


End file.
